Mia’s pov
When Lorenzo came down for breakfast, he barely glanced at me twice, and I wasn’t sure of what to make of that.
The fact that he isn’t paying attention to me right now is supposed to feel relieving and pleasant, which is why I’m unable to place my finger on the meaning of the weird feeling bubbling in the middle of my chest.
It’s been two days since I last set my eyes on Lorenzo.
The last time we both saw each other was that night in the kitchen when he had returned from somewhere in the middle of the night, whereby I had made myself a bowl of cereal after being unable to fall asleep on an empty stomach.
The days that had followed that midnight, I had been glad that Lorenzo hadn’t come to call on me to come prepare food for the both of us, and I had been pleased that he left me to myself. I spent those two days eating snacks and food that didn’t require me to turn on the gas.
I had thought that was how I was going to be living the rest of my life seeing as he left to himself, only for me to come down this morning and meet a chef in the kitchen, cooking multiple foods at once.
I already knew the food was going to taste extremely good before I even tried it, and I was proven right when the spoonful of food melted on my tongue, the exquisite taste exploding into my taste buds at once.
As I ate, I made sure to be quiet, not wanting to draw any sort of attention to myself from Lorenzo.
When I glanced up at Lorenzo, he was sipping on his coffee while his eyes were glued on his phone, thumb moving over it at a ridiculously fast pace.
It was rude to have phones at the table. Of course, I never had a phone, but father made sure to order mother to put her phone away at once should she make the mistake of going through it at the table.
He even hit her one time because of that.
Of course I wouldn’t ever dare to tell Lorenzo to put his phone away and concentrate on his food, when it wasn’t like I’m suddenly looking for a quick route to exit the face of the earth.
About fifteen minutes later and Lorenzo still wasn’t concentrating on his food, and that only irritated me more and more. I knew I wasn’t in the right place to feel like I feel right now, but I couldn’t help it.
“Would you like to take a picture? I assure you that it lasts longer that way.” He offered, voice husky as he spoke and I found myself scowling at once in irritation as I instantly averted my gaze and stared pointedly at my food on my plates.
“You’ve been staring at me throughout this meal, care to share why you’ve suddenly found my face so fascinating?” He continued and I felt my cheeks color furiously in mortification, seeing as I hadn’t even realized that he knew I had been staring at him for a while now.
How mortifying.
“No response?” He continued after a few moments and I swallowed emptily before glancing up at him. He had his phone by the side of his glass of water and one of his brows was arched in a silent inquiry, obviously waiting on my response.
“Uh…” I breathed out, deflating a little when nothing came forth. Lorenzo stared at me for a few more seconds before shaking his head and focusing on his food, with all his attention this time. The veins in his hands moved as he worked the cutleries smoothly, and I had no idea why my mouth suddenly felt dry, prompting me into taking a quick sip of my juice.
I averted my gaze and focused my full attention on my food, only that this time, I’m unable to properly swallow each mouthful of food because now I could feel Lorenzo’s eyes on me the entire time, which was an extremely unnerving feeling to be experiencing at any given moment.
After a while, I was done with my food and I felt full to the brim, making me promise myself to praise Kat for the food when next I get to talk with her.
As I leaned back in my seat and regarded Lorenzo from beneath my lashes, I wondered what usually went through his head, because now he was back on his phone, although it seems like he was done eating.
Deciding that the best thing for me to do is to thank him for hiring this chef after pondering on it throughout my meal, I awkwardly cleared my throat and began to speak.
“So, I wanna thank you for the uh… the chef.” As soon as he glanced up at me, my voice wavered and tapered off.
He regarded me for a few seconds before speaking. “Stop thanking me.”
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
He pushed to his feet this time. “You heard me, I don’t like it.”
“But… that’s what I was brought up to do in situations like this…” I argued but he only snorted without saying anything else.
Feeling perplexed, I decided to remain silence as well while berating myself for thanking him in the first place.
As he exited the dining room, he stopped at the doorway and spoke without glancing backward at me.
“Be sure to be ready tonight, you’d be coming with me somewhere.”